


31 Letters

by minghao



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 02:14:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7739524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minghao/pseuds/minghao
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wonwoo learns how to live again, and loves Mingyu very, very much. </p>
<p>This was written for a fanfic festival (CHR17TMAS), and originally posted on <a href="http://17library.livejournal.com/2982.html">here</a>!</p>
            </blockquote>





	31 Letters

**Author's Note:**

> There is character death in this fic, in the sense that the character is already gone, and this story shows more of how the other character deals with it. There's nothing gory in the fic, and I hope you enjoy it!

Wonwoo can’t sleep.  
  
Insomnia’s been his best friend lately, and he’s spent the past few months getting to know it better and better.  
  
It feels like it’s been too long, when in reality, it’s only been four months, and maybe it’s slightly pathetic, but he still feels so, completely lost.  
  
_“Wonwoo, he wanted to give this to you,” Seungcheol hands over a small square box to the younger man. It was a pretty box, with his name printed neatly in all-to familiar handwriting with the words “Merry Christmas, Mr Beanie”, and his heart had given a ~~small~~ lurch. _  
  
_“Hyung,” he had managed to choke out, his voice barely a whisper. Four months, and he was still nothing but a complete mess. Seungcheol didn’t have to say anything, but reached out to pull the taller boy into a tight embrace._  
  
_They were all hurting; this much Wonwoo knows._  
  
_It just seemed as if hurt tried to cling onto him the most._  
  
_“You’re going to be okay, we all are,” the older murmured into his ear, and Wonwoo held on a bit tighter, because he was weak and because he didn’t want the older to see the same old tears forming at the edges of his eyes._  
  
That was two weeks ago. Since then, all he’s been able to do is stare at it sitting quietly on the coffee table, dust collecting on its surface.  
  
It’s just, he’s been too afraid.  
  
He’s twenty-four now, and he’s afraid of a box.  
  
Pathetic.  
  
He glances at the clock hanging on the wall, and the time reads 3:37. It’s in the morning, of course, because it’s _always_ morning. He courts melancholia in the hours before dawn, and pretends to be Wonwoo from morning to dusk. He’s used to it, and there’s no longer anyone around to pull him gently back to bed, or to stroke his hair until he falls asleep, or whisper sweet nothings in his ear to chase away his inner demons.  
  
At least, _he_ was no longer around.  
  
His friends, no, his brothers, still check on him everyday without fail, and he’s gone back to the dance practices. He can’t write anymore, because everything he’s written so far has been too “generic”, too “boring”. He can’t bring himself to write truthfully anymore, because anything even close to the truth will break him. He chooses to be numb, because it’s the easiest.  
  
He knows they’re all hurting.  
  
It’s just, he feels like he’s been hurting the most.  
  
It’s a week to Christmas, and Wonwoo can’t bring himself to go to departmental stores, because they all play too-happy tunes that only seem to mock him, and there are way too many couples shopping together, trying to find the perfect gifts for their loved ones.  
  
Wonwoo supposes he should start making apology cards, because he knows he won’t be able to buy any gifts this year.  
  
He ran out of ideas a long time ago.  
  
Eyeing the box, he gets up from his position by the window, and approaches it warily, as if it enclosed a ticking time bomb.  
  
“You’re still as ridiculous as ever, you know that?” He murmurs aloud, to no one. ( _That’s wrong, because he knows exactly whom he’s talking to_.)  
  
His fingers trace the edges of the top lightly, and he slowly, finally, musters the courage to lift the box, and brings it over to where he was sitting earlier.  
  
Gently, he pulls at the ribbon that’s surely only there for decorative purposes, and it unknots easily. Exhaling, he lifts the lid.  
  
There’s a stack of letters, they’re all in pale green envelopes, with dates scribbled on top.  
  
December 4 th, December 17th, December 23rd.  
  
Wonwoo turns the box upside down, tipping its contents all over the marble floor. He spends some time arranging the letters in order, surprised when he finds exactly 31. They run from the start to end of the month, and when he looks at the clock again, the new time reads 3:58.  
  
He tries to imagine that his hands aren’t trembling as he places the other letters back into the box, leaving out the one that’s labelled “December 1st”.  
  
He waits until the clock reads 4:17, because he’s too afraid of what he’ll find.  
  
He opens the envelope carefully, not wanting to damage anything.  
  
  
_Wonwoo-yah,_  
  
_You miss me right? You should. But don’t miss me sadly, okay? I don’t think I was a very sad person, so I don’t deserve sadness. Don’t be sad; be happy. You deserve to be happy, more than anyone else I know._  
  
_I wish there was some way I could make this easier for you, I’m sorry if I’m causing you any unhappiness. I wish I didn’t have to._  
  
Wonwoo takes in a shaky breath, surprised when he feels a tear landing on the back of his hand. Clearing his throat, he reads on.  
  
_I hope you’re all taking care of each other. I’ll look out for all of you. I love you all a lot, and I love you. So much._  
  
_Will you do one thing for me today? I want you to do something that makes you happy. Just one small thing. I know you can do it._  
  
_Yours always,_  
_M xx_  
  
Wonwoo doesn’t know how he still has tears to cry. He doesn’t even drink that much water nowadays. He forgets to.  
  
He cries silent tears, and his hands come to wrap themselves around him as he tries to piece back the fragments of his heart, alone.  
  
It’s nearly 5:30 when he picks himself up and places the box back on the table, feeling exhausted. He knows he won’t sleep though; he hasn’t been able to in a while.  
  
He thinks about the simple request. _Do something that makes you happy._ It’s hard; he can’t remember what happiness feels like. He goes to the kitchen, and fills a glass of water.  
  
Despite everything, his kitchen is still regularly stocked, with simple things like milk and eggs and packet ramyeon, because the boys bother to make sure he has enough. They do things like stock his kitchen, clean the apartment, and invite him out to meals just so he won’t wallow. He owes them more than an entire lifetime, and he doesn’t know how he will ever be able to repay them.  
  
It’s December 17 th, and Wonwoo might be crazy, but he ends up cooking the ramyeon at 5:46 in the morning.  
  
It’s the only way he can think of fulfilling _his_ request. Food was _his_ happiness.  
  
He sits alone, in the dining table that’s illuminated by the soft light spilling in from the windows. This apartment has too many of them, windows. But Mingyu had liked them. Wonwoo didn’t know how to say no to him.

 

~~~  
  


  
Minghao and Jun show up at his doorstep at 10 in the morning, wearing soft smiles and hopeful looks.  
  
“Hyung, come for lunch with us, we can head to the studio after that.” Minghao says with a hesitant smile playing at his lips.  
  
Wonwoo realises he really appreciates the way the Chinese boys approach the whole, well, _thing._ Minghao’s definitely ten times quieter than Seungkwan will ever know how to be. Seungkwan, Vernon, Soonyoung; they try to chase the pain away by putting on bright grins and pealing laughs. They fight the pain in a different way, and Wonwoo is sometimes grateful for the distraction they offer. Minghao and Jun, on the other hand, are more subdued, they always have been. Wonwoo knows they hurt too, but they try to stay strong for his sake, and he appreciates it.  
  
“Yeah, okay,” Wonwoo murmurs. “I’ll go.”  
  
_Do something that makes you happy._  
  
_I’m trying._  
  
The shock is evident on the boys’ faces, because Wonwoo usually tries to make up some pathetic excuse, telling them he’ll meet them at practice later, because he knows he’ll only bring the mood down. He doesn’t want them to have to be careful just because of him. They don’t deserve it.  
  
“Seungcheol-hyung’s going to be there too, with Jeonghan-hyung and Joshua-hyung, if that’s okay with you?” Jun asks, and there’s still that hint of caution in the question. Wonwoo tries to remember exactly when they started to treat him like a wounded animal. He can’t remember.  
  
“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” Wonwoo tries to go for a smile, but it’s probably not convincing. “Do you want to come in for a bit? I’ll need some time to change and get ready.”  
  
He ignores the look that the two boys exchange, and momentarily, he feels slightly guilty for being absent for so long. He knows he hasn’t been Wonwoo in a while; he hasn’t really been a good friend. Not really.  
  
“Of course!” Jun scrambles to answer brightly, and they follow him in as he turns around. He’s glad he hasn’t been pigging out on junk food or crying non-stop, because his apartment would be littered with empty take-out boxes and crumpled up tissues otherwise.  
  
“Make yourselves comfortable, I’ll just need five minutes,” he gestures towards the couch, and goes to their- _his_ room to get ready. He changes into a plain black shirt that used to hug his figure better, but it hangs looser on him now. He pulls on a pair of skinny jeans and his battered pair of blue converse shoes. Hastily, he pulls on a beanie because he’s too scared to even look at the mirror to examine the state of his hair. Wallet, house keys, phone.  
  
He throws a comfortable change of clothes to practice in into his shoulder bag, and tries to remember if he’s missing anything important.  
  
Meanwhile, Jun and Minghao try to get used to the quiet apartment, it’s different now, so different. “You know what we should do?” Minghao says absentmindedly to the older boy. “Hm?”  
  
“We should get him new curtains. I’m thinking white, don’t you think it’ll match the colour scheme of the living room?” There’s a note of excitement in his voice.  
  
“Minghao-ah, come here,” Jun calls out, and the younger is momentarily confused. He finds the older in the kitchen soon enough, and his forehead creases in confusion.  
  
“Look,” Jun nudges him, and points at the empty pot in the sink. “He cooked.”  
  
  
  
Wonwoo emerges from his room to hear the boys chatting away in Mandarin, mind reeling from how fast they’re talking. They give him an onceover when he sees them standing just outside the kitchen.  
  
“Hyung, do you have anything in particular that you want to eat?” Minghao asks brightly, linking his arm through Wonwoo’s after they step out of the apartment. Wonwoo takes a moment to get used to the sudden contact, before relaxing into the touch.  
  
It’s familiar, comforting.  
  
“Not really, you guys can pick, I don’t mind.” He replies quietly; if he tries to be enthusiastic, he’ll have to match up to it the whole day. He doesn’t think he can manage that yet.  
  
Jun’s phone starts to ring, and he picks it up immediately. “Coups hyung!”  
  
“Yah, we could go eat dim sum!”  
  
At the words, Minghao nods enthusiastically and the action makes Wonwoo smile. He remembers when they were still trainees, and on the rare occasion that they could pick their meals, dim sum was the first thing the Chinese boys always requested for. The other boys didn’t mind though, it was nice that the boys were willing to introduce them to their local foods.  
  
Wonwoo can’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia.  
  
“Hey hyung, remember when I didn’t know how to say stones in Korean and Seokmin-hyung told me it was mud?” Minghao asks absently, tugging at Wonwoo’s arm, pointing at the pebbles by the roadside. It’s a small gesture, and Wonwoo blinks at how utterly _normal_ it is.  
  
“Yah, Minghao, you used to be so easy to tease,” Jun laughs, but not unkindly. “I’ve gotten better, you have to give me some credit,” Minghao pouts. “You have,” Wonwoo affirms, offering a smile at the younger.  
  
Lunch is, well, slightly unsettling for Wonwoo, simply because it feels like such a casual affair, even though everyone present knows it’s far from that. The moment Seungcheol had seen Wonwoo, he had pulled him into a tight embrace, not needing to say anything, because his hug said everything.  
  
Jeonghan and Joshua are equally warm, all of them happy to see their younger brother trying.

 

  
︎︎~~~

  
It’s 3:45am, and Wonwoo’s sitting by the window in the living room again. This time, he’s holding the envelope labelled “December 2nd”, and he takes a deep breath, before opening the letter. It’s dark, because he doesn’t like turning on the lights, but the soft light spilling in from the window is enough for him to make out the penned words.  
  
_Wonwoo-yah,_  
_I hope you found a bit of happiness yesterday. It’s okay if you didn’t, I’ll still be proud of you._  
  
The words hit hard, because they’re so familiar.  
  
When they debuted, Wonwoo remembers having small panic attacks, breaking down at night because he was anxious about writing rap lyrics that were more than just simply “good”. He hadn’t been aiming for “good”, he wanted “memorable”, “catchy”, “phenomenal”. 19-year-old Wonwoo wasn’t used to the stress at that time, and it was _him_ who always reminded Wonwoo to breathe, relax, _“I’ll always be proud of you, Jeon Wonwoo, no matter what.”_  
  
_Have you been writing lately? I love listening to your lyrics. I suppose I’m a ~~little~~ biased, but we don’t have to let Coups-hyung or Vernon know that. It’s our little secret! _  
  
_Tell you what, if you can, could you write something for me? Anything will do. I just want to hear you, Wonwoo._  
  
_Yours always,_  
_M xx_  
  
Wonwoo rereads the letter three more times, because he can.  
  
It’s 4:30am, but Wonwoo’s sitting at the desk in his room, with the table lamp turned on. There’s pen and paper in front of him, and he picks the pen up, testing its weight in his hand.  
  
He starts to write.  
  
When we were younger  
I thought everything meant forever  
It was easier to laugh then, to smile then  
With you I was stronger  
  
Wonwoo scratches it all out, because it’s too superficial. It doesn’t mean anything, not really, not when it’s words you can find on the latest pop tracks. MIngyu doesn’t deserve empty words.  
  
I’m sorry  
Sorry for not trying, sorry for not being strong  
I’m sorry towards my brothers, whom I know I’ve let down  
Truth is,  
I really miss you  
I miss you more than I need air  
I miss you in the mornings, when I accidentally make your coffee  
I miss you in the afternoons, when we’re choreographing for 12 instead of 13  
I miss you in the evenings, when I accidentally cook for two  
I miss you most at night, because I’ve forgotten how to sleep alone  
  
It’s neither catchy nor memorable, but it’s real. It’s honest and it’s the realest thing Wonwoo’s written in a long while.  
  
“It’s for you,” he murmurs aloud, the quiet words dissolving easily into the noiseless night.  
  
The piece of paper is slightly damp when he’s done, because he couldn’t help the tears that traitorously fell from his eyes. The thing is, Wonwoo’s been numb, dull for far too long. Writing opened up that wound again, made him _feel_ again.  
  
He falls asleep on his side of the bed that night at 5am; it’s something he hasn’t been able to do in a long while.  
  
The next morning finds Jihoon and Soonyoung in his apartment, and the only reason Wonwoo wakes up at 9 is because he’s awoken by unfamiliar music filling the usually silent house. Blinking, he sits up in the bed, heart panging when he stares at the cold space next to him.  
  
Rubbing his eyes, he gets out of bed and pulls the sleeves of his sweatshirt over his hands, finding comfort in the soft material. He pads out to the living room, and finds his friends in the kitchen, trying to cook.  
  
“What are you doing?” He asks, voice raspy. “Wonwoo-yah!” Soonyoung greets him animatedly, which is nothing surprising. “Morning, hyung,” Jihoon’s greeting is less grating on the ears, and the shorter boy is giving him a cheerful smile.  
  
It’s too early.  
  
“We decided to cook you breakfast, since we have today off,” Soonyoung explains casually, and returns his attention to the, Wonwoo assumes it’s bacon, frying in the pan. Sometimes Wonwoo forgets they have a key to his place, Seungcheol made it a rule when they all split to live in different apartments; that at least someone else had a spare key to another’s apartment. Wonwoo has the keys to Vernon’s place, which he shares with Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Joshua. They all live within walking distance to each other, which is nice, Wonwoo supposes.  
  
The radio in the kitchen hasn’t been used in a while, but then again, the same can be said for the neglected pots and pans in his kitchen. “Thanks, guys.”  
  
Wonwoo surprises himself when he realises he’s being genuine. Having the boys constantly remembering him make him feel less alone. “Go wash up, we can think about what we want to do today when we eat?” Jihoon offers, and Wonwoo replies with a nod.  
  
Just as he leaves for the bathroom, he hears a quiet “I think he’s getting better, Hoonie” from Soonyoung. Maybe.  
  
Breakfast is simple; bread with bacon and scrambled eggs, and Wonwoo finishes everything on his plate. “Soonyoung-hyung, your cooking’s improved a lot,” he compliments the blond, which earns him a bright grin in return.  
  
“At least _someone_ appreciates my talent,” Soonyoung gives Jihoon a pointed look. “I cook for them all the time, but none of them are decent enough to thank me.” He pouts, and plays around with a bit of egg still left on his plate with his fork. “You make us sound like ingrates,” Jihoon chides the elder. “He always makes us do the dishes, even though he’s the one making the mess in the kitchen.”  
  
Soonyoung sticks his tongue out, for lack of a better comeback. Wonwoo maybe misses the playful banter that used to flow more easily from him.  
  
“You know what? Maybe we should all just stay at home and hang out today, I think everyone’s really tired,” Soonyoung says absently, looking at Wonwoo for his opinion. “I think that’s a good idea,” he replies slowly, mind immediately going into overdrive, thinking about what this means for him.  
  
Jihoon notices the flash of panic in the older boy’s eyes, and rushes to add, “We don’t have to do anything too crazy. We could order in pizza and do a movie marathon, is that okay?” He’s watching Wonwoo carefully, and the atmosphere grows slightly tense.  
  
Hanging out with the eleven of them, all at once.  
  
There was a time when things like this didn’t make Wonwoo anxious. There was a time this was something exciting, something _fun_ for him.  
  
“Hey, we won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do,” Soonyoung adds softly, but there’s a hint of disappointment in the tone of his voice, and Wonwoo hates himself for not having it together.  
  
“I-“ Wonwoo’s voice comes out thick and unsure. He doesn’t know why he’s so scared, the boys have been _nothing_ but understanding.  
  
“Soonyoung-hyung’s right, you know?” Jihoon reaches out tentatively, and pats the back of Wonwoo’s hand. Maybe it’s because Jihoon has always had a more mature side of him, or maybe it’s because Wonwoo’s always been more comfortable with the other two, because he starts to tear up, and when that starts, it’s hard to stop.  
  
“Hey, hey,” Jihoon sounds alarmed, and he gets up to walk over to the older boy and hugs him, one hand carding through his hair gently. Wonwoo buries his face in Jihoon’s stomach, trying to stop crying, but it only seems to worsen the waterworks.  
  
Wonwoo doesn’t cry. Not in front of the others, at least.  
  
“There, there,” the younger’s voice is soothing, and he doesn’t stop patting Wonwoo’s hair. “Maybe it’s best if you let it out,” he says softly.  
  
It takes a while for Wonwoo’s tears to run dry, and he opts to hide his face for a few more moments, not wanting to have to face the questions Soonyoung and Jihoon will definitely have.  
  
“It’s not that I don’t want to hang out with you guys,” Wonwoo says after he’s calmed down and after he’s stopped sniffling. They’ve moved to the couch, and he’s cuddled in between the two boys. “I don’t know why I’m so scared,” he admits aloud.  
  
It doesn’t sound as terrible as it did in his head.  
  
“You don’t have to be scared with us, you know that,” Soonyoung offers, and the thing is, Wonwoo knows this. He trusts his boys with his life, if he ever had to. “It’s,” he exhales. “…hard.”  
  
They sit quietly for a while, before Jihoon points out the box sitting on the coffee table in front of them. “What’s that?”  
  
Wonwoo pauses. “Can I tell you sometime later?” So maybe he’s selfish, but he wants to keep _him_ to himself, for now. For a little longer.  
  
“Course. You don’t have to, I was just curious,” the younger brushes it aside easily, and turns his attention back to Wonwoo. “We don’t have to do movie day, we can think of something else, if you want.”  
  
Wonwoo doesn’t deserve the unending selflessness they indulge him with.  
  
“No. It’s okay. It’s silly of me to be scared of this, it probably makes no sense.”  
  
“You know, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung nudges the younger. “It’s okay that you’re scared, or upset, or angry. It’s okay to grieve, we all understand. You don’t have to pretend with us, and we’ll give you all the time you need. We just want you to know that whatever it is you’re going through, you don’t have to do it alone. As long as you have us, you’ll never be alone. We care, and we really do love you, you know that right?” He looks at the younger seriously, and Wonwoo exhales.  
  
He knows all this. But hearing it out loud makes him realise that the bond they have is stronger than what he remembers it to be.  
  
“I know,” his answering reply is soft.  
  
“He’s actually right, for once,” Jihoon says, voice teasing.  
  
“We can do movie day, here?” Wonwoo offers bravely, and they look at him apprehensively.  
  
“Are you sure?” Soonyoung eyes him carefully, always carefully. “You don’t have to agree just because I said that, we really do care about you, I just wanted to remind you.”  
  
“I’ve missed everyone.” It’s a simple answer, but Wonwoo figures it’s worth it when Soonyoung’s face lights up. “I’ll text the others, I’m _so_ making Seokmin pay for the pizza, he owes me.” He busies himself with informing the others, and Jihoon nudges Wonwoo. “Do you really want to? You don’t have to lie.”  
  
“I really want to, Jihoon-yah.”  
  
_I’m trying, I really am. I want to be better._  
  
Jihoon flashes him a smile. “You’re going to be okay.” Wonwoo really hopes so.  
  
Soonyoung and Jihoon leave his place with promises of returning in an hour with the rest of the boys, and when Wonwoo shuts the front door, he leans against it and lets out a long sigh.  
  
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he wanders back into the living room, eyes landing on the box of letters.  
  
It’s December 18 th, and he knows he’s exactly 16 days behind on letters.  
  
Glancing at the clock, he realises he still has about an hour or so to himself, and since he really doesn’t have anything better to do, he sits on the couch, and opens the box.  
  
“December 3rd”  
  
_Wonwoo~_  
_I don’t know how busy you’ll be today, but I hope you’ve been getting enough rest. Remember to take the vitamins we have okay? I bet Seungcheol-hyung’ll be nagging everyone about it, especially with the colder weather, but I’ll remind you, just in case. You can be so forgetful at times._  
  
_Go spend some time with the others, maybe Jihoon-hyung or Seungcheol-hyung, or Minghao, even. I know you enjoy their company. Don’t worry, I won’t be jealous!_  
  
_Yours always,_  
_M xx_  
  
Wonwoo thinks about how nicely today is working out in _his_ favour. He didn’t even have to look for Soonyoung or Jihoon. He gets up to head to the fridge. He finds the bottle of supplements easily, a white bottle with a navy blue cap. Filling a glass of water, he swallows the pill.  
  
48 minutes until the others arrive.  
  
He decides to open December 4 th, just because he can.  
  
_Hey, do you remember last year? I remember we were working late in the night to practice dance, and we decided to stay a little later, just the two of us, so I could play around with the coffee machine for a bit. I nearly broke it by accident; did they ever find out that one of the parts is loose?_  
  
Wonwoo actually laughs, because he knows exactly what the letter is referring to. Despite their exhaustion, it had been a good night, one of his favourites, in fact.  
  
_Don’t tell them it was me!!_  
  
_Anyway, it was nearly 4am, and we decided to eat, and we walked for twenty minutes to McDonalds. Thinking back, it probably wasn’t a good idea, I’m pretty sure we could have contracted pneumonia or something. We talked a lot that night, and I know we got a lot closer because of it. I don’t regret a single bit of it though; I hope you don’t either._  
  
_You should do it again, when it’s warmer. You’re not replacing me, don’t worry. I just want you to have fun._  
  
_Yours always,_  
_M xx_  
  
Wonwoo leans back against the couch and closes his eyes, replaying that night as best as he can remember.  
  
_They had finished dance practice around 2:30am, and the only reason they stopped was because Chan was on the verge of collapsing due to his flu. Seungcheol didn’t want them to stay any later, because a few of them were under the weather as well. Besides, they had pretty much worked out all the last tweaks in the choreography already._  
  
_“Wanna stay behind for a bit?” Mingyu had given him a cheeky smile, eyes sparkling with mischief. Wonwoo groaned. “But I’m tired.”_  
  
_“I want coffee, please?” The rest were already slipping on their shoes, and heading out the door, but Wonwoo called out to Seungcheol. “Hyung, let Mingyu and I lock up, we’ll head back after you guys.”_  
  
_“Alright, but not too late, okay?” Seungcheol had tossed him the keys and nodded as he left._  
  
_After Mingyu’s mini catastrophe with the coffee machine, and when they were standing outside the building, Mingyu frowned. “Are you hungry?” Wonwoo had wanted to say no, but his stomach growled in response. “I know you didn’t have dinner, let’s go look for food.”_  
  
_“Gyu, it’s 3:30 in the morning.” Wonwoo deadpanned, but Mingyu wasn’t listening. “You’re telling me we don’t have fast food restaurants that operate 24 hours?” Mingyu scoffed, and reached out to link their hands together. “C’mon, it’ll just be the two of us, having an adventure. It’ll be fun,” he looked at Wonwoo with bright eyes and a wide smile, and Wonwoo didn’t know how to say no._  
  
_They talked a lot that night, exchanging childhood stories and past crushes, dreams, hopes for the future. Things that were both insignificant and important._  
  
If Wonwoo had known that that night would have to last him a lifetime, he would go back in time just to redo all the other nights he’s carelessly wasted.  
  
Shaking his head, he places the letter back into its envelope and closes the box. Instead of leaving it on the coffee table, he gets up and heads to his room; chooses to hide the box because he’s selfish.  
  
Not now. Not yet.  
  
He moves around the apartment aimlessly for the next few minutes, making sure there’s nothing really out of place before the boys arrive. His eyes linger on the photo of them placed on the shelf in the living room, next to the television. It’s an old photo, from when they went to Japan, when they did their photo shoot for their first comeback album.  
  
It’s all of them, wide grins and naïve eyes, thinking that the future held nothing but more chances, more time.  
  
Nobody warned them everything they had was only fleeting.  
  
Nobody told them what they were trying to hold on to was grains of sand.  
  
He’s distracted from his thoughts when he hears the doorbell chime, and he inhales, mentally preparing himself for the boys.  
  
_His_ boys, his friends, his _family_.  
  
He’s missed them so much.  
  
He opens the door to see Seokmin smiling at him brightly, and before he can react, he’s pulled into a tight hug, and for a moment, he struggles to remember why he let himself drift away for so long.  
  
“Hey, Seok,” he mumbles against his neck, surprising himself when he realises he’s completely at ease.  
  
Seokmin doesn’t have to say anything; not really, because the fact that Wonwoo has let them into his apartment all at once already speaks volumes.  
  
“C’mon, don’t make us wait outside, it’s cold,” Seungkwan whines loudly, but his tone is his familiar brand of teasing, and Wonwoo smiles back, stepping aside to let the rest of the group into his apartment. The last one in is Seungcheol, and he gives Wonwoo an onceover, and there’s something akin to fondness lingering in his expression.  
  
Seungcheol doesn’t say anything, just pulls Wonwoo in for a hug, and doesn’t let go but moves to drape an arm over Wonwoo’s shoulders as the younger shuts the door. When he turns back to face the group, his apartment suddenly seems less like an empty cage, and more like a home. All of a sudden, it’s not cold anymore, and Wonwoo loves how they fill up the space just right, and tries to ignore how there’s maybe just enough space for one more.  
  
“WONWOO-HYUNG THERE’S LITERALLY NOTHING IN YOUR FRIDGE!” He hears Vernon calling from the kitchen and he flushes. He doesn’t keep it well stocked, and if his memory serves him right, there’s only some bread, eggs and milk. And Soonyoung probably used up some of it for breakfast.  
  
“YAH! VERNON! WE’RE ORDERING PIZZA!” Soonyoung yells back from where he’s settled himself comfortably on the couch. “And you’re paying.” Wonwoo watches as the blond aims a jab at Seokmin’s shoulder, laughing when the younger squawks in protest. “Hyung, you can’t be serious, I can’t-“  
  
Wonwoo notices Seungcheol nodding at Jeonghan before the leader speaks. “It’s okay, hyungs will pay for it,” Seungcheol laughs as he moves towards the couch, with Wonwoo in tow. The boys let out a cheer, and Jeonghan shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Next time the dongsaengs are treating us.”  
  
“Can we make a blanket fort?” Seungkwan asks Wonwoo, and Wonwoo shrugs. “Do whatever you want.”  
  
Eyes shining with mirth, the younger gets up and drags Minghao along with him. “C’mon, we’re gonna look for blankets and stuff.”  
  
“Grab your laptop Wonwoo-yah, so we can order pizza,” Soonyoung pipes up, and Wonwoo nods. As he moves to his room to grab the electronic device, he’s more than slightly shocked.  
  
Because having 11 other boys in his apartment and the disappearance of the silence he’s so used to should feel claustrophobic, but it’s far from it. In fact, Wonwoo hasn’t felt this at ease in so long, and it surprises him more than he likes to admit.  
  
It takes Wonwoo a while to locate his laptop charger; he knows his notebook’s out of battery because he hasn’t touched it in weeks. He carries it out to the living room, and plugs the charger into the socket before turning it on.  
  
It takes a while for the MacBook to load, but when it does, the desktop photo makes Wonwoo’s breath catch. He stills, and looks at it for a while, his right hand hovering over the trackpad.  
  
Clearing his throat and swallowing, he opens up Google Chrome, and doesn’t look around to see how many of the boys caught his screw up. “So, where’re we ordering pizza from?” He asks aloud, voice only slightly shaky.  
  
It’s quiet, and then, “We’re getting barbeque, and pepperoni,” is uttered by Jun, which launches them into a heated discussion on which pizza flavours are the best. Wonwoo’s sitting on the floor right by Jihoon, and the younger slides down to sit next to him.  
  
Nudging his shoulder gently, Jihoon asks, “You okay?”  
  
“Yeah,” Wonwoo murmurs. “I will be.”  
  
“That’s my boy,” Jihoon smiles at him, and moves to lean his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder. “You know, you should just order whatever pizza you want, I don’t think they’ll finish arguing any time soon,” Jihoon smirks mischievously, and Wonwoo gives an impish grin in response.  
  
“Why not,” he opens the page for pizza delivery, and the two browse through the selection of pizzas, quietly adding whatever they like to the checkout, while the rest of the boys continue bickering over pizza flavours.  
  
“Geez, if we let them order, we’d never get any pizza,” Jihoon jokes.  
  
A few hours later find them sprawling over the living room floor, munching on pizza and curling up against one another on the blankets and pillows that Seungkwan and Minghao managed to find around the house. Harry Potter is playing on the television, but Wonwoo is only paying attention half heartedly, his thoughts wandering to the boys around him.  
  
He wonders. He wonders how they’re all coping so well, or rather, how they all _seem_ to be coping so well. It’s taken him this long to be able to even enjoy being around them, and he knows it hasn’t been easy, because how could something like this _ever_ be easy?  
  
Chan locks eyes with him momentarily, and the younger boy dips his head and gives Wonwoo a faint smile. Wonwoo wishes he could collect all of their smiles, to save for other rainy days.  
  
Their attentions finally stray from the movie around 2am, and that’s when Seungcheol mutes the movie, and they start chatting, about anything and everything. Wonwoo’s hit it with déjà vu, because this was something they did really often when they lived in the same house.  
  
There’s a lull in the conversation when their laughter dies down, and Wonwoo finally gathers the courage to ask what he’s been itching to ask the whole day. In a timid voice, he asks, “Can I ask you guys something?”  
  
No one actually announces a “Guys, Wonwoo’s said something,” but almost immediately, they focus their attention on him, and he has to remind himself that he has no reason to feel shy in front of his family.  
  
“Course, Wonwoo,” Joshua murmurs, and nods, encouraging the younger to continue.  
  
“How do you,” Wonwoo clears his throat, but his next few words come out even softer than before. “How do you guys do it?” He doesn’t dare to look at anyone, and picks at a lose thread hanging from his shirt instead.  
  
It’s quiet for a while, because everyone knows exactly what he’s talking about.  
  
The tension in the room grows almost palpable and Wonwoo almost regrets asking the question. He shouldn’t have. When would he learn to stop being so selfish?  
  
“C’mon, huddle up,” Seungcheol murmurs, and they rearrange themselves, moving closer to Wonwoo, so they’re a mess of tangled limbs and warmth.  
  
“We depend on each other, that’s how we do it,” Jeonghan murmurs, his voice quiet, comforting. “Yeah, I told you, you’ve got us to lean on,” Jihoon adds.  
  
Wonwoo finally dares to lift his gaze, and he’s met with assuring soft smiles, and he sighs. “I miss him,” he admits. “It’s easier some days, because I know he’s not hurting anymore. But then there are days, I can’t help but feel alone, you know?” Wonwoo doesn’t even know why he’s babbling away, saying things the others probably already know.  
  
“Wonwoo-hyung, we love you, you know? Maybe not in the same way as Mingyu-hyung, but we love you.  You don’t have to worry about being alone,” Chan reassures the elder, and the rest nod in agreement. Despite being the youngest, their maknae always knew how to say the right words, and Wonwoo hadn’t really noticed before, but Chan had grown up so fast. Confident, caring, passionate; he adopted only all the best traits from them. Wonwoo was proud to be able to call him a younger brother.  
  
“You’re right, it’s probably stu-“  
  
“Don’t say that,” Seungcheol says sharply, and Wonwoo is taken aback momentarily. “We’re glad you’re comfortable telling us things like this, Wonwoo-yah. And you always can, I mean it.” Seungcheol looks at the younger firmly.

 

  
~~~

 

  
Wonwoo reads his letters slowly, and savours each one, but he manages to get through them. It’s Christmas Eve when he finally catches up to date. Mingyu’s letters made him do a _lot_ of things, he’s now responsible for a potted plant, and was _this_ close to getting a puppy, but realised he’d probably have to ask Minghao to move in with him to help him with the pet. He’s still contemplating that one, to be honest.  
  
He’s been out past midnight to get gelato on his own, in the cold, and he’s managed to buy the boys a Christmas present each. He’s been having more meals together with the boys, and he’s been more present in practices. He laughs now; he’s learnt how to do it again.  
  
And the thing is, he’s happy.  
  
It’s been about a week since he read December 1 st, and he’s significantly more okay with not having Mingyu around as much. Things have been rather hectic lately, he’s been staying back later and later in the studio to practice the choreography, and he’s started writing rap lyrics again. Or at least, he’s been trying to.  
  
It’s just before midnight, and he’s siting on the couch in the living room, holding December 25th in his hands, and staring at the clock anxiously.  
  
The moment it hits midnight, he tears the envelope open excitedly. It’s slightly more festive than the rest; Mingyu had decided to decorate it with cut out snowflakes and Christmas trees.  
  
_Wonwoo-yah,_  
  
_Merry Christmas, love._  
  
Wonwoo’s breath catches.  
  
_Time flows by really fast, doesn’t it? It seems like we just debuted only yesterday. At least, writing it now, it feels that way for me. I wonder what things will be like in December. Are you guys doing anything special? I hope you get a good break- I’m confident you guys will need it._  
  
_There’s about a week of letters left for you, but I want to tell you this now. Promise me you’re going to be okay. I can’t write a letter a day for you forever, although I wish I could. It’s the least I could do, right? I wish I had more time._  
  
_I read online that the letters help, they did for some people…with our circumstances. I wanted you to have a last bit of me; maybe it’s me being selfish, I don’t know._  
  
Wonwoo wonders how he managed to get so lucky. He rubs at his eyes hastily before continuing to read.  
  
_Anyway. It’s Christmas, and I got you a gift. So before you continue reading, (I hope you’re reading this at home), go look in the storeroom, it’s hidden right at the back of the closet, underneath the stack of magazines we keep._  
  
Interest increasing, Wonwoo decides to follow instructions, because it’s the least he can do. It takes him seven minutes to find his gift, and when he does, he’s torn between crying and laughing.  
  
It’s clumsily wrapped, the material of the gift poking through the wrapping paper. It’s a blue beanie, exactly like the one he used to wear before they debuted. Turning it around in his hands, he finds a small ‘M x W’ embroidered on the inside of the beanie. Pulling it on, he walks out to the living room, and picks up the letter.  
  
_It’s symbolic, don’t you think? We all start somewhere, Wonwoo, and someday, I hope you find your happiness again. You of all people deserve it._  
  
_Merry Christmas, Jeon Wonwoo. I love you. So much._  
  
_Yours always,_  
_Mingyu x_  
  
“Merry Christmas, Kim Mingyu,” Wonwoo says hoarsely, his voice barely audible. “I love you.”  
  
Wonwoo hasn’t cried for five days, but he doesn’t cry now because he’s sad. He cries because he doesn’t know what he did to deserve Mingyu, and he wishes, not the first time, that it was he instead of Mingyu.  
  
Wonwoo spends Christmas day with his boys, they throw a party for themselves, and it’s all fun. They toast to Mingyu, and everyone says a few words. “To Kim Mingyu, who knew me better than I knew myself,” Wonwoo says earnestly when it’s his turn, and they all give a small cheer.  
  
The mood never drops, partly because no one lets it and partly because they’re all genuinely enjoying themselves. They all remember MIngyu, but they’ve learnt to turn the sorrow into fondness. Wonwoo knows it’s exactly what Mingyu wanted.

 

  
~~~

  
December 31st  
  
_Wonwoo-yah,_  
  
_It’s the last day of the year, and despite everything that’s happened, I hope you’ve managed to turn it into a good one. I suppose I’ve been watching over you, if I’m lucky enough._  
  
_I just have a few last things to tell you._  
  
_-Don’t forget to eat, no matter how busy you get._  
_-You can talk to me anytime, anywhere, about anything. I’ll be listening._  
_-Don’t ever think you’re not enough. You’re more than enough. Always._  
_-Tell someone when you’re sick; you’re never going to be a burden._  
_-I don’t know if you knew, but I was close to Minghao because he told me his story once. He gets homesick sometimes; watch out for him for me, will you?_  
_-You’re never going to be alone. Let the other boys in._  
_-In my short life, of all the people I’ve met, you’re my favourite._  
  
_I guess that’s it. I don’t think I’ve missed anything. Make next year an even better one, yeah? We may not have won Rookie of the Year back then, but Artist of the Year may not be so impossible, I’ll be rooting for you guys._  
  
_Stay brave, Wonwoo. I love you._  
  
_Yours always,_  
_Mingyu x_

 

  
~~~

  
_Mingyu,_  
  
_You idiot. I can’t believe you spent all that time writing letters when you should have been resting._  
  
_But…thank you. I don’t know if you saw, or if you can read this now, but I’m not going to lie. I was a mess, more than the rest. I didn’t even dare to open the box for two weeks. You’ve been taking care of me, you know? The letters taught me how to be okay again. I don’t know how I was lucky enough to have you._  
  
_I still miss you. We all do. But we’re coping, I think. We had a small Christmas party; it was fun. I didn’t know Joshua-hyung was such a lightweight. Hahaha. By the way, thanks for your present, I love it. We’re working on a new album, and we’re dedicating it to you. I’ve started to write again, it’s getting a lot easier every day._  
  
_I hope you’re okay, wherever you are. Watch out for us, you said you would._  
  
_Thank you, Kim Mingyu, for letting me know what true happiness is, for loving me more than I will ever deserve, and for always caring about the people you love. I will never forget you._  
  
_I love you._  
  
_Your Wonwoo_


End file.
